Together, We Ride
by Garowyn
Summary: [Part 3 of 3] 'Why did he have to die' A young boy learns of self sacrificial love through his older brother. A knight bravely follows his friend into battle. The lives of two, on opposite sides of the war...collide.
1. Darkness

**A/N: Don't own YGO. You may consider this a bit of a crossover with Fire Emblem with something of my own mixed in. For example, I have borrowed "Pegasus Knights", but have made them a little different in here. So I don't own either of them. '…thoughts…' Find a Fire Emblem 7 midi/mp3 – "opening music" and "Together, We Ride" - and then read this! You don't have to, of course, but I find it could be the background music to this story. I'm also not too sure on the spelling of the plural of Pegasus so I had to go with "Pegasii."**

**Thank you to Caorann fridh Bronach for beta reading.**

**This is also dedicated to animefanatickid25, a good friend.**

**Warning: Very sad scenes/fates that may involve one of your favorite characters (I'm trying to say this in a way that won't spoil it! But I guess I just did…)!**

**I also do not own the title! Borrowed it from a FE7 midi. This will be posted in parts.**

* * *

It was the war to end all wars. The ultimate battle, the fight that would decide the outcome of the conflict between the Pegasus Knights and the Dragon Knights and their respective homelands.

At last, they would see who was destined to rule the Northern Lands where the unchallenged Perilous Peaks loomed. If acquired, this in turn would show that whoever won the war were a formidable, fearless force to be reckoned with.

They would dominate the ride into a new age.

* * *

_Silently, he ran his fingers along the cool stones that kept the wooden cross in place. He wished people would turn from their wickedness that had caused so many wars._

_However, despite his wish, he had long since given up on hoping things could be right. Not since the loss of…_

* * *

Mokuba nervously shifted from one foot to the other, trying his best to mask the dread that rapidly ate at his insides. The dragon-head-shaped helmet wasn't helping much, what with it being a little too big; plus the armor was quite burdensome, but that hadn't mattered to the general – as long as Mokuba was well and able, he would fight, even if he was only twelve years old.

Adjusting his helmet, Mokuba's eyes treaded over the gray and gloomy horizon of swirling mist, clouds, and smoke. A battle was obviously being fought in the distance.

Mokuba and the rest of the soldiers were the reinforcements.

Releasing a brief sigh, Mokuba reached for a lone twig on the ground. They weren't leaving just yet as last minute plans and strategies were still in the process of being developed; he had a few moments to himself before being plunged into the middle of chaos and ruination.

"You are frightened."

It was a blunt statement, a statement all too true. "Yes," Mokuba answered softly, before looking into the blue eyes of his older brother, Seto, who had come up behind the young boy.

There was no point in hiding the truth.

"I'll protect you," Seto said, laying a comforting hand on Mokuba's shoulder.

"I know." Mokuba did not doubt his brother's sincerity.

"Stay by my side," the elder brother added a moment later. "And mind your surroundings." Seto lifted his gaze from his brother to the war in the east. "As much as I hate to admit it, the Pegasus Knights and their army are worthy opponents. This battle isn't going to be easy."

Turning the twig over in his gloved hand, Mokuba grimaced as he tried to hold back tears. "I'm really scared, Seto," he whispered, unaware his hand suddenly balled into a fist. The twig snapped in half and he let the pieces drop to the cold rugged ground. "What if…what if I – we – you-" He couldn't continue, feeling that ever-annoying lump form inside of his throat.

Seto knelt down to Mokuba's level, placing his own helmet on the ground. "Don't think such things," he said firmly with a frown. "I've taught you all that I know. Others have trained you. You'll be all right."

"I'm not so sure…"

"Seto!" Tsukasa, a friend older than Seto by three years, jogged towards the brothers, looking very regal in his military outfit and armor. He, too, wore a dragon head-shaped helmet complete with a sword, boots, gloves and more. Everyone was well-protected for the most part. "I was told to tell you that you are going to be riding a Dragon."

The seventeen-year-old felt his insides freeze. "What was that?" he asked hoarsely, hoping his ears did not betray him. For as long as he could remember, Seto had always dreamed of riding a Dragon and becoming a Dragon Knight. He had worked hard, day and night, to prepare himself for such an honor. He knew it had to come eventually; he was the best in his age group and quickly rose to the top of nearly every young man in the Western Lands.

Tsukasa smiled knowingly. "You're a Dragon Knight now, my friend."

Mokuba's eyes widened in pleasant surprise. "Wow, did you hear that, Seto?"

Seto nodded stiffly, trying to appear unfazed, but on the inside he rejoiced. The time had come at last. "…A dragon…which one will I be riding?" Seto demanded, anxious to get moving.

Tsukasa paused, his brow wrinkling for a moment, and then said, "I believe you will be riding the white dragon, the one with the blue eyes." The man gave a slight bow of his head. "Excuse me." He turned and headed for his own dragon.

"The blue-eyed one…" Mokuba whispered, unable to believe Seto's luck. "That's a good one, isn't it?"

Seto did not answer right away; he was too stunned. The Blue-Eyes White Dragon – that was its name. The dragon was one of the most powerful, one of the most majestic. The beast seldom let anyone ride him, and when someone did ride him, that rider had to be skilled and courageous. Anything short of the two traits promised death.

However, what astonished Seto most was that the leaders had enough faith in his abilities to handle this magnificent beast as opposed to giving him a dragon of lower rank. No, they had chosen him _specifically_ for this honor. "Yes, Mokuba. The Blue Eyes is more than a "good" dragon…"

* * *

"Here."

Bakura looked up as his best friend, Tristan, handed him a flask of cool water. "Thanks." Bakura lifted the flask to his lips and allowed the liquid to sooth his dry throat. "I needed that," he said, a gentle smile lighting up an otherwise apprehensive expression.

Tristan plopped down beside his white-haired childhood friend. "Worried, huh?" the brunette asked although he already knew the answer.

"Mm. I am." Bakura blew a sigh. "I don't want to go to war…I don't like fighting," he stated, feeling dread descend upon him once more like a wet blanket.

"Who does? Well, except for the few mad ones out there…" Tristan grabbed the flask from Bakura's hand and took a long gulp for himself. "There's no other way around it, you know. We're fighting for our right to live."

"Our right to live?" Bakura looked doubtful. "How can you be sure? Are they not fighting for the very same thing?" The Knight gestured towards the west. The unit he was in, the unit that Tristan was the captain of, were the reserves for the army of the Pegasus Knights.

Tristan was quiet for a moment. "I guess so, but…this is different."

"How?"

The captain appeared to be flustered. "I-I don't know!" His shoulders slumped. "I really don't know anything about war. All I know is…orders. I have orders to fight and protect our homeland."

"We came here to conquer a new land," Bakura said softly, "but what for? I think…I think our homeland is perfectly safe. There is…no need for this…all of this."

Understanding his friend's stance on the subject of war, Tristan offered a smile. "Look, Bakura, I know where you're coming from. I really do. I guess what I'm trying to say is…those Dragon folk and other countries all around…there's always going to be one person who wants to have it all. There's always going to be one person wanting to rise above the people and dominate all of humanity." Pausing to take a breath, Tristan continued: "It's an unfortunate truth about us humans. Absolute power; what's one person's disapproval can be another's happiness..."

"…And we have no choice, but to fight against this person," Bakura finished.

"Took the words right out of my mouth!"

"I know, I know." Bakura stared at the ground. "But why? Why are we like that?"

"I don't know, my friend. I really don't know."

A loud horn sounded - the signal to prepare for battle.

Tristan slowly stood to his feet, offering a hand to Bakura. "It's time." Tristan then blew a sharp whistle to his Pegasus. The winged horse, recognizing the call of its master, came bounding out of nowhere, coming to an abrupt halt beside its rider. "Nia," Tristan murmured, scratching behind the Pegasus' ears. Turning to Bakura, Tristan became dead serious. "Stay alive, Bakura. Don't do anything foolish."

Bakura, immediately transforming into that of a solider, gave a small salute. "Yes, sir." Tristan was the captain, after all. "You, too."

Sensing the sadness in Bakura's voice, Tristan shook Bakura's hand. "We'll be side by side; we'll look out for each other, all right?" He grinned, placing his helmet on. "We're the hotshot fliers here, remember?" he said, voice muffled.

Bakura smiled back before putting on his own helmet. "You are, but not me."

"Nonsense!" Tristan hoisted himself onto Nia's back as Bakura called his own Pegasus, Syren. "You're just as good as I am."

A man named Setsuna rushed towards them, seated on his own Pegasus. "We're all ready, Captain," the warrior said.

Bakura mounted Syren and faced the west. "I'm…ready, too," he whispered, the discussion of war still on his mind. 'Freedom…what freedom? We're all bound in the chains of endless conflict, enemies or not. How can we be free?'

* * *

**End Part I.**

**A review would be greatly appreciated. It doesn't take long, you know. All discussions of war are _NOT_ related to any current or past wars.**


	2. Sacrifice

**A/N: Don't own YGO or references belonging to Fire Emblem. Thank you to Caorann fridh Bronach for beta reading.**

* * *

_Another joined him, one who had also seen the horrors of war. Together, they stared at the rows and rows of graves, each one representing a soldier, a general, a civilian…_

"_How did it come to this?" the second one asked._

_The first one replied, "We did it. We're the ones to blame."_

"_I miss him," the second one spoke in a wavering voice. "I miss him…so much."_

"_I know," the first one said, a hand on the second person's shoulder. "I know."_

_

* * *

_The dragons flew through the air swiftly, each rider bending towards the neck of the beasts, lessening the chances of watery eyes. One could not be handicapped in any way when headed to do combat, especially combat in the skies. 

'The Pegasus Knights will be formidable fighters,' Seto thought, trying to get his mind off of his worries. Mokuba had been forced to stay and fight on the ground, much to Seto's displeasure and reluctance. The teen had even considered declining his chance of riding the Blue-Eyes, but Mokuba had insisted otherwise.

Mokuba was now in the care of two other young soldiers, both of whom were a year younger than Seto. They said they would watch out for the boy. Seto trusted their words, but not their actions. War could do anything to a man's sanity and mustered courage.

Following Tsukasa, who was a riding on a purple-colored dragon, Seto pulled the reins to the left. However, to his bewilderment, Seto found that pieces of rope would not confine and control the great beast. Roaring, the Blue Eyes went to the right instead and flew ahead of Tsukasa.

'What's it doing?' Seto wondered, suddenly nervous. 'This isn't supposed to be happening…'

A series of "neighs" alerted him of the presence of the Pegasus Knights. 'So,' Seto thought, thinking of the white dragon. 'You knew all along where they would be coming from.' All other things vanished from his mind and he let the dragon guide him into the incoming onslaught.

Down below, Mokuba held his sword out in front of him. He was a good distance away from the frontlines, but the enemy was closing in on them fast. Remembering his brother's display of fearlessness, Mokuba kept a firm grip on his sword and stood his ground as a few soldiers turned his direction. The young soldiers beside him had already moved forward to counter them. 'I just have to stay close to them,' Mokuba thought, 'and strike when I'm sure.'

* * *

"_I still have his sword," the first one said. _"_Even though it symbolizes warfare, I still have it at the side of my bed. It will always remind me of his determination and wit."_

"_I have this," the second one said, pointing to something on him. "I never take it off. I never will."_

* * *

Readying his spear, Bakura and Syren took flight behind Tristan and Setsuna. Setsuna, a daring soldier, was the son of a general and took pride in that fact. 'He will not go down without a good fight,' Bakura thought. 'He will even battle his foes to the very end, taking one after another, never tiring. Is he an example of who I should be like?' 

Tristan let out a war cry and charged into the mighty scaled beasts ahead. Lance in hand, Tristan guided Nia to the nearest one, a man on a green dragon.

Spying his first victim, Setsuna zeroed in on Tsukasa, waving his scythe menacingly. Tsukasa brought an arrow to his bow and aimed.

Fleeing would be dishonorable, humiliating even, but that was what he wanted to do the most. 'I don't like this.' Bakura narrowed his eyes, anyway, and went for a rider on a red dragon.

Meanwhile, Dragon Knight Seto fought a sense of vertigo and held on to the Blue-Eyes as they flew heavenward and then swooped earthward towards unsuspecting Pegasus Knights. 'The Blue-Eyes is quick, cunning…unnerving.' As though it were just another day, the white dragon let loose blue fire, killing a winged horse and rider. Seto guessed he wouldn't have to use his sword as much, save to deflect arrows or Pegasus Knights who happened to get overhead, the dragon's only weakness.

* * *

Mokuba dropped to his knees, throwing up. He had watched as his sword plunged into the chest of the enemy soldier. He had watched blood, red blood like his own, flow. He had killed. 

'What have I done?'

"Kid, get up!" one of the young soldiers shouted. "Don't just sit there! Be on your guard!"

"I…I can't-" Mokuba was hauled to his feet by the other boy.

"Stand up!" the second soldier yelled. "This is no place to waste time! Make defending yourself top priority!"

"I…I don't want to fight…"

All around him, bodies fell, life seeping out of them. Cries of terror and anger cluttered his ears. Smoke, dust, and a cold wind mixed together were an awful combination. Above, Dragon and Pegasus Knights clashed, Seto among them. 'Brother…'

The strangling grip of the reality of real war got hold of Mokuba. Without another word, Mokuba spun around and tried to run through the mass of battling men. He had to get out of there; he couldn't take it anymore!

* * *

The dragons were powerful, but the Pegasii were known for their speed. 

Driving his Pegasus forward, Setsuna swung his scythe at Tsukasa. The man on the dragon fired another arrow and pierced Setsuna on the shoulder. The scythe left a nasty gash in Tsukasa's side.

Both men continued to attack each other viciously, each knowing their lives depended on it. There was no other option. Fight…or die, and to choose death was to escape, to run from the battle and neither wanted such dishonor written upon their graves. They would smash, swing, and stab at the last remaining bit of life until life plunged to the surface asunder, lost in the remains of the living hell below the veiling clouds.

* * *

Bakura thrust his spear into the scaled skin of a dragon, having avoided being the dragon's teeth that tried to snatch him off Syren. "That was too close…" Bakura whispered to himself, glad his helmet was there to halt most of the wind's bitter sting. Leaving behind the injured beast and perturbed rider, Bakura and Syren took off towards Tristan who was holding his own. 

Tristan saw his friend, relieved that he was all right…then… "Bakura!" he called out as loud as his strength could muster above the sounds of battle.

Hearing his name, Bakura saw Tristan point at him. Glancing behind, Bakura saw a nightmare on wings, clothed in white, and his throat ran dry.

Tormented by fear for his friend's life, Tristan flew towards Bakura and aimed his lance at the heart of the rider. "Bakura!" he cried and threw the lance as forcefully as he could.

Seto, the rider of the blue-white vision, drove straight at Tristan instead, knowing the warrior was coming to the white-haired Knight's rescue. However, Blue Eyes beat him to the punch. It released fire again and struck Nia. The horse jerked ferociously in response, throwing Tristan into open air. However, Blue Eyes turned at the last second with the intention of protecting its rider, taking the lance just below its long neck. Rocking to and fro with the sudden sting of the lance, the dragon accidentally dismounted Seto.

Seto and Tristan plummeted towards the battle below…to their inevitable deaths.

Bakura gave a strangled cry of helplessness, helplessness for Tristan and for the enemy soldier, as well: "Noooo!"

* * *

Tristan's body fell into an unstoppable spin as he saw the sky and the earth flash before him. 'This isn't happening,' Tristan thought numbly, comprehending the intensity of the situation. Dizziness overtook him as he continued to fall. Any moment, he knew, the ground would suddenly come straight at him, promising the end. 'What a way to go…but at least I saved Bakura…I hope he's all right.' Tristan closed his eyes, succumbing to acceptance, acceptance of his approaching demise. 

"_Our right to live? How can you be sure? Are they not fighting for the very same thing?"_

The memory tumbled into his head. He knew there was another dropping into blackness beside him. 'So, in the end, we'll bleed the same way,' Tristan concluded, finally realizing the true extent of his best friend's words. 'We're falling to the same earth, fighting for the same cause, dying the same way…I'm certain…I'm certain he was doing the very same thing I was doing…following orders.'

* * *

Blue-Eyes ripped the lance out of its skin and swooped earthward in search of its rider. Catching sight of him, the dragon flew swiftly and plucked Seto out of the air, careful to keep its teeth from hurting the teenager. 

Not too far away, an obedient Syren flew under Tristan and Bakura grabbed his friend and pulled the captain into safety.

* * *

"Thank…you…" Seto muttered, barely aware of how dire his circumstances had been before the dragon had whisked him away, thwarting death not a moment too soon. Ironically, his body had been thrown at death's door and all he could think about was Mokuba. 'I've got to find him,' he thought, feeling himself placed upon the ground. Though he had miraculously eluded the sudden expiration of his life, Seto knew that the relief that coursed through his veins would not last long. A change of environment, from the sky to the earth, did not change the fact that a war was being fought. 

Dazed, Seto groaned as he forced himself to sit up and plan his next move. A low growl at his side reminded him that the dragon was still there. "Blue-Eyes…" Slightly surprised that the dragon had stayed nearby, Seto reached out cautiously and gave the beast a small rub on its flaring nostril. "You rescued me. All the words in the world cannot adequately express my gratitude," the teenager said softly, receiving a low murmur in response that informed Seto that the dragon understood.

Knowing there was not a moment to lose, Seto gathered his composure and the soldier within resurfaced. Unsheathing his sword, Seto brought his gaze to the area of combat: ground zero.

"I have to find Mokuba; I made a promise."

* * *

Guiding Syren to a safe distance from the fighting, Bakura held onto Tristan tightly, tears already streaming down his face. "I'm so sorry, Tristan!" Bakura braced himself for the slight impact of the landing and then slid off of Syren, lowering Tristan to the ground. "I'm sorry – I should have been looking out for myself!" 

"No…" The captain pushed himself to a sitting position. "It's not your fault, Bakura. It…isn't anyone's fault." Tristan sighed heavily, recuperating from the brush with death. "We're in a war, you know. It can't be helped."

"But-"

"Duck!"

Bakura threw himself to the dirt instinctively as an arrow whizzed overhead. "W-Wha…"

"This is not good. We're…" Tristan's voice trailed off momentarily, face turning pale. "We're behind enemy lines, Bakura," he whispered hoarsely.

Realizing the extent of the situation, Bakura instantly called for Syren. "Come on, Tristan! We have to-"

"You go on without me!" Tristan ordered. "I'll hold them back while you make your escape!"

"What?" An incredulous Bakura paused before climbing onto Syren. "No, I won't leave without you!"

"You're wasting time – go, now!" the captain shouted angrily and pulled out a short sword, that being the only back-up weapon.

Hearing "go," Syren neighed wildly and took to the air, Bakura barely on its back. The Pegasus tore through the air with a tormented rider.

* * *

'There's no way out!' Mokuba gasped for breath as he looked all around him, men fighting each other and not seeing the boy. 'W-What do I do?' 

"Oh-ho, a baby in the middle of a war zone!" A large, burly man of the enemy's side appeared out of nowhere with a bloody sword in his gloved hands. "This is gonna be fun!"

'H-He's mad!' Mokuba thought, 'Mad to be thinking of "fun!"' Trembling, Mokuba tightened his grip on his own sword.

With a war cry, the man brought his sword down upon the boy. Mokuba barely managed to bring his blade up in front, preventing the man's sword from slicing him in half. 'I-I'm going to die!' Mokuba gulped as the man lifted the sword up and prepared to attack again. There was just no way Mokuba could handle another blow like that…

"Mokuba!"

Seto jumped in front of his brother, halting the blade between his armored wrists in a cross-arm formation.

"Seto!"

Grunting from the pressure of the other man's blade, Seto glanced at Mokuba with one open eye. "Mokuba, run! Get out of here and get away from here – run as fast as you possibly can!"

"Seto!" Fresh tears flowed from his eyes. Mokuba wailed again, "Seto, no! No!"

Finally shoving the man away, Seto gave Mokuba one last look. "I love you, Mokuba," he said, a rare smile finally taking its place on Seto's face.

A roar sounded and Mokuba was being taken away from the battlefield in the mouth of a magnificent blue-eyed white dragon.

* * *

**End Part II.**


	3. Candlelight

**A/N: Don't own YGO or references to Fire Emblem. Thanks for the reviews. Here is the final part. Special thanks goes to my terrific beta reader, Caorann fridh Bronach.**

* * *

It was over. The great battle was…over. There had been no winner. Both armies retreated, intent on recovering their losses. They would meet again soon. 

And Bakura vowed to do all he could to stop the misery from repeating itself all over again.

Having no cloak to cover the body, Bakura's dead friend lay on Syren's back. Tristan would need a proper burial – in fact, all those who had died here would need one. But first, Bakura wanted to bury his dear friend back in the homeland, in the place where Tristan's grandfather, a great man, lay buried. 'He'd want that,' Bakura thought, senseless. For now, he would have to dull the emotional pain that threatened to overtake him like a flood. Bakura would release it when the time was right.

Stepping over the numerous victims of war, Bakura narrowed his eyes, trying to find the way back to the forest. The fog was so heavy…it was nearly impossible to see. That's why he didn't like the fog. It was always thick and suffocating, making it difficult to travel. Tristan had hated it. Tristan had also hated the cold; he'd always talked about traveling down south where it was warmer…safer. "It's too late now, isn't it?" Bakura mumbled, "Too late, too late…" The white-haired teenager dropped to his knees in despair, breaking down. "Tristan, why?"

Louder sobs reached his ears and Bakura snapped his gaze up. Who could still be here? Unable to ignore those sounds of grief, Bakura stood up and motioned for Syren to follow him. Though he was sure a sobbing person would pose no threat, Bakura took out a spare dagger anyway.

The fog suddenly swooshed in his direction and Bakura was stunned to see a tall shadow – no, a shape, a form of a…dragon!

The dagger fell to the ground and Bakura became very still, wondering what was going to happen. Still, his eyes were able to make out a small boy bent over a body.

"Seto!" It was Mokuba, sobbing as if his life depended on it. "Seto, you promised to protect me! You lied!" Mokuba's body shook heavily as he clutched the limp hand of his hero.

Creeping closer, Bakura's heart went out immediately to the boy. 'He's young, younger than I…and he fought in the battle?'

Sensing Bakura's presence, Blue Eyes lifted his head and growled, shifting into protective mode.

Hearing the growls, Mokuba's head whipped around to see the teenager, and the boy gasped.

"No!" Bakura held up both of his hands. "I won't hurt you! I'm not here to kill you!" he said, hoping that would be enough to still the fierce dragon's actions and reassure the boy, somewhat. Beside him, Syren whined.

Mokuba looked back at his brother. "Then…I wish you would!" he suddenly yelled. "I want to be with my brother!"

Casting a wary glance at the dragon, Bakura inched closer. "…I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I'm sorry for your loss…I…I know how you feel."

"No, you don't!" Mokuba sniffed. "Nobody knows how I feel!"

Bakura closed his eyes, feeling that all too familiar lump in his throat form. "Yes, I do."

"Huh?" Mokuba looked up and noticed for the first time a Pegasus with a…dead body on its back. "…" He did not know what to say; what could he say?

Bakura walked towards the boy, and the dragon did nothing, somehow sensing Bakura would be true to his word. "What is your name?" Bakura asked, uncertainly. "I am Bakura."

Mokuba wiped away a tear, smearing dirt across his cheekbone. "Mokuba," he answered.

Bakura was a foot away. He knelt down, asking, "This is your brother-"

"He died saving me!" Mokuba began to cry again, not caring that he was in front of a stranger. "But he didn't keep his promise!"

Bakura let Mokuba sob for awhile, placing a hand on the boy's upper back. Then, the teen prompted gently, "What promise?" For now, Bakura held back his own grief. 'I have to be strong for this boy…here and now. He is so young…we're both alone, now.'

"Seto said he'd protect me, but-"

Now he understood. "But he isn't protecting you from your sorrow," Bakura finished.

Mokuba nodded in reply.

The teenager's eyes softened another degree. "Your brother…I, of course, didn't know him, at all, but…no doubt, he wanted you to live, even if he were not there."

"But why?" Mokuba wiped his eyes again. "He knew I was going to be alone! Our parents are dead," he stated bluntly. Mokuba's eyes then darkened. "I have to find the person who killed him!" It was as if another Mokuba was talking, one consumed with immense agony. "I-"

"-want revenge," Bakura finished for him, shaking his head sadly. "What will you do after you carry out your revenge?"

Mokuba was silent – he really hadn't gotten far along in his plan. "I…I don't know."

"Do you even know who killed your brother?"

Mokuba sniffed, remembering the large man who had attacked him. "It was this man-"

"How do you know that it was that same man?" 'He is like Tristan,' Bakura thought, 'and yet…' "Do you know at all?"

"No, but-" Mokuba stopped as a realization dawned on him. "Wait a minute, you're the enemy!" The child backed away, crawling, with one hand still grasping Seto's hand. "You're one of the Pegasus Knights, aren't you?" Mokuba accused him coldly.

"I already told you," Bakura began, uncharacteristically firm. "I'm not here to kill you." Bakura then broke into a dismal smile, so faint it might as well have not been there in the first place. "Look at me. Am I holding you against your will? Have I brought a sword to your throat?"

"…" Mokuba turned his eyes away, ashamed of himself. 'Bakura's right. He isn't doing anything, but…' "I'm sorry," Mokuba said quietly, on the verge of tears again. "But I can't…trust you, just like that. We were told to kill Pegasus fighters."

"You seemed to trust me only a moment ago," Bakura pointed out. "You seemed to have forgotten about my Pegasus, Syren. With that exception, you knew nothing of me and you talked with me." Bakura brushed away his bangs from his eyes. "But now that you know who I am, you've become distant and suspicious, yet I have done nothing. Pegasus Knight…" Bakura swallowed hard, remembering Tristan. "That name is only a label, a duty, an occupation I am or was involved in. It has no meaning; for what gains has it brought? I've lost my best friend." A heavy sigh on his lips, Bakura said to himself, 'Funny, though, I might have been proud of such an honor…being a Pegasus Knight…but it truly _is_ needless at this time.'

Mokuba suddenly snarled like a wild animal. "My brother is dead, too, and I'm crying, but how come you're not crying for your friend?" he snapped. "Are you heartless!"

Bakura frowned, trying to remember that this was a child he was dealing with. "I am not crying because I am trying to comfort you…to help you."

Silence overcame him and Mokuba's chest heaved, ready for another round of tears. However, tears were expected; a loved one that had meant the world to him had passed on. Mokuba knew the tears were going to keep coming…maybe they would never stop. "Nobody can help me."

Hesitantly, Bakura reached out and placed his hand on Mokuba's shoulder. It would be pointless to pursue the subject any further. "Well, is there anything I _can_ help you with?" he asked, all of a sudden feeling awkward.

"…No."

Nodding, Bakura stood to his feet and then he remembered the dragon. Worried, Bakura spun around and saw Blue-Eyes staring at him. 'Oh, my…I think I had better go.'

"Why?"

"Hmm?" Bakura stopped and cocked an ear.

"Why did he have to die?"

Shifting his helmet to his other arm, Bakura turned his body around, facing the child. "Mokuba…"

"Why does everyone have to fight?" Mokuba's voice broke and then strengthened itself several times. "Why couldn't we just leave each other alone and then Seto would still be here!"

Bakura's eyes were full of such deep and aching sorrow, eyes that watered instantly, as he spoke the truth, something Tristan had told him. "Because that is the way we are."

"But don't they know – can't they see what's really going on?" Mokuba sobbed. "Seto died…and others will die, too! When is it going to end?"

"When people change their hearts," Bakura answered slowly. "That is when it will end."

"Then I'll make them change!" Mokuba said defiantly. "I-"

"You cannot force people to change…you cannot force the world to change." Bakura bent his head towards the ground, in silent mourning for the lost. "But you can change yourself first…then change the world through your actions."

"It's hard! I-I can't forgive the one who killed Seto! I just can't!" Mokuba wailed loudly, causing Blue-Eyes to move closer to the child as if to console him.

Bakura's hand clenched up into a tight fist. "I know…I know." He then paused, thinking of another possibility. "Mokuba…did you kill anyone, yourself?" Mokuba was, after all, dressed in armor, but did it make him a soldier, too?

The child froze as guilt washed in like a wave, remembering the one he had taken down. "Y-Yes."

"Then you are just as blameworthy as the one who killed your brother."

Mokuba was abashed. "But I was just doing what I was told to do!"

"And so was the soldier." Bakura sighed. "I killed, too, because I had been ordered to kill all enemies. I am no better or different than you or that soldier…or your brother and my friend."

Mokuba said nothing.

'Have we been pawns in a disturbed game?' Bakura wondered and went on: "It doesn't make you feel good, does it? We all are, in a way, murderers. We've destroyed peace by creating a war and now war has become something to fight to _regain _peace…with bloodstained hands."

"I never knew…" Mokuba whispered, and looked away, seeing all the fallen bodies around him, smelling the scent of death.

"And what about those who are tying to live peacefully?" Bakura sighed and shook his head. 'This has gone on far too long, the endless conflict in this world.' "You said you were alone?"

Mokuba nodded numbly. "I have no place to go, now…"

"Come with me."

"H-Huh?" Mokuba blinked. "You want me to go with you?"

"That is, if your dragon doesn't mind," Bakura said. "I need to return to my homeland to bury my friend."

"But what about my brother? I want to bury him, too." Mokuba looked back at Seto, feeling those tears stream again. 'I can't believe he's gone…'

Bakura was still, pondering over an idea. "You know…why don't we bury both of them, together? There is a place in the forest that my Pegasus took me to. It is a place that is so beautiful…and the strange part is, it is directly down the line on which we've been fighting on."

Understanding, Mokuba replied, "All right."

When they arrived at the place, Mokuba was in awe. Moonlight shone on a small valley with wild flowers growing all around. Blades of grass danced to the tune of the wind and trees hid them from the view of retreating armies in the distance.

Slowly and surely, the two males dug with their bare hands, with Mokuba's sword and Bakura's dagger, as best as they could with limited sources. Surprisingly enough, the Pegasus helped, too, catching on to its rider's actions. Blue-Eyes even deciphered what was going on and even moved a claw to help Mokuba remove some dirt. The two beasts – they were simply amazing.

Then the time came to say their good-byes, their final farewells…

Bakura went first, giving a salute to his captain and then kneeling down to speak with his friend: Tristan. "I will never forget what you did for me. I…" Bakura suddenly found it hard to speak. "I promise not to let your sacrifice go in vain. I will do all that I can to make things r-right." He tugged at a piece of grass, squeezing his eyes shut to stall the tears for a few seconds more. "Y-You were my friend since birth. You were my fearless captain. You were brave when I wasn't, strong when I couldn't be. I thank you for…for all the lessons I learned from you, for your kindness. Farewell, my friend, and rest in peace."

Mokuba went next, already past the point of faltering in speech; he was already crying. "Oh, Seto! I miss you…I miss you so much! I love you, big brother, I always will!" Mokuba covered his face with one hand while the other hung onto a pendant his brother had given him. "You were the best brother anyone could ever have! You took care of me and made me proud of you. Seto, _I'll _make _you_ proud of _me_ - someday!"

With an oath being made by each of them, they walked into the darkness together.

* * *

Two years later at the graves of Seto and Tristan… 

"I know this is the anniversary of their friend and brother's death, but Mokuba's dragon keeps looking at me funny! It's making me _very_ uncomfortable, you know!" a young man hissed.

"Pipe down, you fool!" a woman snapped. "Don't you have any respect in your puny little mind?"

"Both of you, calm down." Another woman sighed. "They'll hear you."

Three friends stood by their horses and the Dragon and the Pegasus. There was Joey, a mercenary-turned-warrior to help protect his friends. Then there was Mai, a nobleman's daughter on the hunt for adventure. Finally, there was Tea, the one whose family took in Bakura and Mokuba, though they did not "adopt" them. Tea had become a sister to Mokuba and something more to Bakura. All three of them were accompanying the former Pegasus Knight and Dragon soldier back to the north.

At the graves…

"I don't feel like I've made a big difference in this world," Mokuba was saying to Bakura. "There's still fighting going on around us."

"Mokuba, tell me, what do you see when you light a candle?"

"…Uh, a flame?"

"And what does it do?"

"It gives a little light to a dark room."

"And what can a flame turn into?"

"Um, a fire?"

Bakura smiled, patting his friend's shoulder. "Don't worry, Mokuba. Someday, people will begin to understand. Someday, there will be others like you, people who will have to the determined fire and shining hope that resides within you."

Mokuba sighed. "Thank you, but when will it happen?"

"Only time will tell."

Over the last two years, ever since the day Tristan had died, Bakura had changed. He had gone from being doubtful and worrisome to being almost lion-hearted, yet still cautious and kind. In a way, he was honoring Tristan's memory.

Mokuba, too, had evolved, but into a twelve-year-old boy whose dream of being a great swordsman like his brother was being fulfilled day by day, being taught by both Bakura and Joey. Mokuba would not use his sword to do battle, but rather enjoyed the art itself of sword fighting. It would be a legacy honoring Seto's memory.

"I'm telling you, it's going to attack me one of these days!"

"Probably will because it will be fed up with your stupidity!"

Joey and Mai were still arguing by the time Bakura and Mokuba arrived back at the edge of the valley. Bakura moaned. "Please, can you both refrain from saying nasty things to each other?"

"Oh, Bakura," Tea said, giggling. "That's the only way they know how to express their love for one another!"

"What!" two voices chimed in shock.

"Blue-Eyes won't hurt you, Joey." Mokuba touched the dragon's nose affectionately. "He'd never hurt anyone."

"You're just saying that because it never hurts _you_!" Joey remarked stiffly.

"But at least he stops the majority of the threats that come our way," Tea said, running her fingers through her horse's mane. "Just one look at the dragon and poof! All the cowards run away."

"Or maybe they were frightened because of this idiot's face!" Mai pointed at Joey, who retaliated.

"Or yours!"

Bakura only smiled. "Let's go. We'll have just enough time to reach the next town before dark."

* * *

Mokuba and Bakura were making it their life's journey, living to help others and preserve the bits and pieces of peace that formed along the way. They would not dominate, but take part in the ride into a new age…

* * *

**Story Complete.**

**A/N: Now, now, don't flame me for killing of Seto and Tristan (I don't know if you care about him, but he's one of my favorite characters.); they are in a war after all – it had to be realistic.**

**In awhile, I plan to post one of my last YGO fanfics, _Veritas_, and it is a crossover taking place several years after Gundam Seed Destiny. Some of the war discussion in _Together, We Ride_ is a kind of prologue for _Veritas_ – Mokuba is one of the main characters and is in a more dangerous situation than the one in here. Maybe you'll keep an eye out for it…? If you do, it is appreciated.**

**A review would also be greatly appreciated. It doesn't take long, you know.**


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